


Another Way

by patentpending



Series: Powerless 'Verse [2]
Category: Sanders Sides, Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Classism, Fluff, Multi, One Year Later, Secret Identity, Superheroes, Supervillains, Thinly Veiled Criticism of Society, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 05:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patentpending/pseuds/patentpending
Summary: “People like them,” Logan had once commented to Virgil, lightning-gray eyes troubled as they gazed after a woman clutching her child closer, away from the judgemental glares and leers.  “Are statistical anomalies.”The world is full of discrimination and hate; you'd have to be blind not to see that.  Then again, it isn't mild-mannered NASA engineer Virgil Sander's problem.  Not until the villain known as The Prince makes it his problem.





	Another Way

**Author's Note:**

> I made a promise a long time ago (chapter 12 long time ago), and this is my way of fulfilling it.
> 
> Come say hi on [discord](https://discord.gg/GDQCm2C), if you want to hear more about this universe!

“People like them,” Logan had once commented to Virgil, lightning-gray eyes troubled as they gazed after a woman clutching her child closer, away from the judgemental glares and leers.  “Are statistical anomalies.”

He went on to explain that as 99.96 percent of the world’s population has some sort of enhanced ability, according to many standard rules of rounding, that 0.04 percent left over was statistically insignificant.  Statistically insignificant had struck Virgil as an inept description. No one was _lesser,_ was _insignificant,_ simply because they couldn't do the same magic tricks as the rest of the world.  They didn't deserve the stigma or discrimination.

No one deserved to be Powerless.

 

Then again, that wasn't really his problem.

 

Virgil Sanders pushed back from his work station with a happy sigh, stretching his arms to crack his back with a series of satisfying pops.  The designs for the reentry capsule that had gotten him his NASA engineer job in the first place littered his desk, plotted before him in delicate, sweeping curves of graphite.  What held his fascination, however, was the small, spherical gadgets resting in the center of his palm. He looked up happily, intent on telling Logan - his astrophysicist consultant and best friend - that he was done, but he was alone in the darkened room.

Somewhat sheepishly, he remembered that the work day had technically ended four hours ago.  Logan had flicked off the lights on his way out, conjuring a glowing orb for Virgil. It gleamed there now, hovering a comfortable distance about his head.  He reached up to bat at it playfully, and his fingers tingled with the familiar feeling of Logan’s Ability - light manipulation.

He carefully packed the designs away in his portfolio and the devices in his pocket, a pencil clattering off of the desk when he turned to put the papers up.  He huffed in frustration and reached straight though the desk, turning the solid iron to gas around his arm. He fished around, nabbed the pencil, and pulled back, desk solid once more.  Tucking the wayward pencil behind his ear, he began to pack up, the ache of another sleepless night settling comfortably in his bones.

It was as he was turning to grab his battered book bag that he saw it.

There was a dark form in the next room.

Shit.

Virgil slipped low instinctively, creeping along the desks that would hopefully shelter him.  He quickly hit a few buttons on the security panel, fingers shaking.

Quietly, he slid open the door, heart pounding in his throat as the figure, backlit by glowing monitors, rifled intently though cabinets.  A deep baritone voice, tinged with amusement, rang out, sending goosebumps running up Virgil’s arm.

“You really should get rid of the orb if you’re trying to go incognito, Gay-ms Bond.”

Virgil stood up with as much dignity as he could muster, brushing off his white lab coat as he glared up at the orb, still bobbing complacently above his head.

“I thought I told you you aren’t welcome here, Princey.”  Virgil’s voice was cool, but his hands tapped anxiously at his sides, betraying the jolt of adrenaline funneled directly into his bloodstream.

The Prince turned and smiled at him, a wicked grin that had no business making Virgil feel almost weak in the knees.  “Aw, come now, Virgil,” he teased. “Kicking me out already? I thought we had something special.”

“You mean an arrest warrant?”  Virgil arched an eyebrow, trying to swallow the excitement rising in his throat.  “I’m sure the courts will think that one’s plenty special.”

“An arrest warrant isn’t special enough for what we have.”  The villain winked. “I’ve got half a dozen of those after me.  I’m the biggest bad guy around; haven't you been watching the news?”  He prowled forward, dark eyes gleaming and a wicked smirk dancing on his lips.  He reached out, gently running a thumb over the sweep of Virgil’s cheek. “This is entirely unique, my dark and stormy knight.”

There was this strange sensation that crept through Virgil’s chest every time The Prince was near, delicate and glowing and dangerous all at the same time - like rose petals brushing against his ribs, the promise of thorns not too far behind.

“A unique level of idiocy, maybe,” Virgil said dryly.  “Why does a supervillain keep sauntering into one of the world’s most secure places?”

“A challenge.”  That infuriating grin again.  “Besides, the company is absolutely charming.”

“Logan left two hours ago,” Virgil snarked.  “Sorry to disappoint. Check Bake My Day, and you just might get two for the price of one.  Three if Kaimi’s there.”

“There’s only one way I could _possibly_ fathom you disappointing me right now, not-so Good Charlotte.”  The Prince’s hand was fully cupping the edge of Virgil’s face now, dark eyes shining with mischief.

“And what's that, Princey?”  Virgil cursed how breathless his voice sounded, how, even when he tried his best to hide how he trembled, how he felt, this villain could break down all his walls.

“If you didn't kiss me right now.”

Virgil didn't even realize villain had back the civilian up against the wall until he felt his back pressing against it, firm and unyielding behind him. And there was The Prince, firm and unyielding before him.

“I could _evaporate_ you right now,” Virgil threatened, uselessly, judging by the villain’s smirk.  “Don't you know how dangerous this place is for someone like you?”

“What, a poor, defenseless Powerless?”  The Prince mock-pouted as Virgil winced at the slur.  “Or do you mean a big, bad villain?”

“Both,” Virgil said, far more honestly than he would've liked.

“Oh, my sweet Something not Corporate.”  The villain sighed, tucking a lock of brown hair behind Virgil's ear.  “Haven't you heard? I'm the bad guy. We may not win in those fairy tales I used to love, but here? In real life?”  His eyes flashed. “Evil is all that wins.”

He was closer yet closer, and Virgil still couldn't find the words to respond.  

“Come on, Virgil,” he whispered like a dare, “the disappointment is setting in.”

“Well” - Virgil's fingers drifted up to grab ahold of that ridiculous sash as he felt something inside of him, some wild inhibition, shatter - “I do so hate to disappoint.”

He leaned forward and kissed him.  

 

“Seriously though,” Virgil panted through swollen lips once they pulled back, “this is dangerous, Roman.”

Virgil's boyfriend grinned, slow and lazy.  “Calamity’s keeping guard, and I know for a fact that you dismantled the security cameras the second you saw me, love.”

Virgil sighed.  “Still, you can’t just keep showing up here, Roman!”  He waved a hand over his face. “Virgil Sanders, mild-mannered NASA engineer, doesn’t have a thing to do with The Prince.”

Roman just stepped forward, grinning.  “I've heard whispers he and The Savior are rather… intimately acquainted though.”  He took Virgil’s hands in his own and rubbed their noses together. “Maybe he’d like to come out and play?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Insufferably handsome, you mean.”

“Irrelevant and incorrect.”  Still, a smile flickered at the corners of Virgil's lips.  “You couldn't wait for tonight?”

“It _is_ tonight.”  Roman lightly tapped Virgil's nose. _“Someone_ decided to be a workaholic again.”

“How else am I supposed to make you your tech, Princey?”  Virgil arched an eyebrow. “It's not like Logan's got some super secret laboratory for me to work in.”

“That'd be so lit though,” Roman mused.  “I could so see you going all Dr. Horrible.”

“Didn't he accidentally kill the love of his life?”

“Yeah okay no secret lab.”  Roman winced. “I prefer both of us intact.”

Whatever Virgil intended to respond with was cut off by a cool, sultry voice, drawling through the air the way molasses flows.  “If y’all’re done neckin’, I'm getting a mite bit sick a knocking out guards.”

“What?!”  Virgil disentangled himself from a dismayed Roman and rushed over to their partner in crime.  Calamity, sharp eyes peering out from over the black bandana tied across her face, stood casually over several unconscious figures.

“Told ya.”  She nonchalantly cleaned dirt out from under her fingernails with a wickedly sharp knife.  “We're pro’lly gonna have ta kidnap you again.”

“Again?”  Virgil sighed.  “Come on, they're already calling me a villain magnet. There's a betting poll on who its going to take me next.”

“Then put a couple hundred on me next time.”  The Prince appeared at his side with a smirk. “And tell any other villain that gets near you there will be hell to pay.”

“How sweet,” Virgil deadpanned.

“‘There is no evil angel but love’,” Roman quoted.

“I don't get paid enough for this,” Calamity muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Your payment is our splendid friendship, Pearl Hart-less.”

“You heard me.”

Roman made offended Princey noises as Virgil cackled.

“C’me on, gents.”  Calamity tossed her thick cord of a braid over her shoulder and bounced on her toes, hyping herself up for what was to come.  “We’ve got a mission.”

 

The projected image, streaming from the tip of Logan’s finger, flickered against the wall in the back room of Bake My Day.  A beautiful woman with long, blonde hair and flashing blue eyes smiled out at them.

“Missy Darnelle,” a woman with dark skin set off by her mint hijab lectured, “socialite, celebrity influencer, and bigot extraordinaire.”  Kaimi Alvi was once a lovely, Unabled, aspiring reporter and was now an Unabled villain, achingly gorgeous with the burn mark spread like a delicate kiss across her cheek.

“You can say that again,” Roman said darkly, hand automatically flying to the scar over his heart.

Virgil silently took it, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

“I managed to do some digging,” Kaimi continued after sharing a sympathetic grimace with Roman, “and as it turns out, the security on tonight’s gala is rather lacking.”

“Even if it isn’t” - Patton grinned, their blue eyes gleeful - “I’ve got it on good authority you’ll have a certain baker on the inside.”

“A myriad of esteemed personages will be in attendance.”  Logan flicked his finger, and the image flipped over into a long, scrolling list.  “Although we all know whom the most lovely will be.” He shot a wink at Patton, and they giggled.

“Kindly save the flirtin’ for when we aren’t plannin’ extremely illegal acts.”  Katrina rolled her eyes.

Virgil arched an eyebrow at her.  “Kaimi is literally sitting in your lap.”

“What’s your point?”  The women said in unison.

“As I was saying,” Logan interrupted pointedly, snapping his fingers and freezing the image on a blueprint of the Starlight Plaza, “in accordance with the plan, Virgil and Roman will be stationed here and here” - two red dots appeared in the designated areas - “while Patton will be in the kitchens.”  Again, a red dot appeared as everyone nodded along.

“Have we decided when we’re going to make our move?”  Kaimi narrowed her eyes at the blueprints, trying to envision what was to come.  “I couldn’t find an exact itenary, but I’ll bet you anything Missy is going to make some sort of speech.”

“How ‘bout I bet ya an arcade date, peach?”  Katrina grinned, wrapping her arms around Kaimi’s waist and tucking her chin on the other’s shoulder.

Kaimi’s near-constant brisk facade broke away, an almost bashful smile alighting on her face.  “Then I’d _want_ to lose, Kat.”

“Hey there, Ms. Pot.”  Roman grinned at Calamity.  “I’d like you to meet Mr. Kettle,” he said with a grand, sweeping gesture at Logan.

“My last name is Abbott-Morales,” Logan groused, fingers brushing over the silver band on his left hand.  “You should know this, Roman; you were at the wedding.”

“Yeah, Ro.”  Patton grinned, freckled nose crinkling.  “It doesn’t…”

“For the love of Newton, Patton, do not-”

“Ring any _bells?”_  They cracked up, wrapping their arms around their chubby stomach.

“I want a divorce.”  Logan let his head loll back, hitting the handles on his chair.  Maybe if he stared at the ceiling long enough, he could will an asteroid strike into existence.

“No, you don’t.”  Patton leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Logan sighed.  “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, yes, all of us are adorably coupled up,” Virgil interrupted, rolling his eyes.  “Can we get back to planning capital crimes now?”

“But we haven’t had our cute banter!”  Roman protested indignantly.

“You’ll survive,” Virgil said dryly.

“Only if true love’s kiss revives me.”  Roman mock-swooned, blinking up at Virgil with wide, expectant eyes.

Virgil couldn’t help a smile and leaned in… only to stop right before their lips touched.

“Then perish,” he whispered.

Kaimi slapped him a high-five without even looking; Calamity patted Roman’s arm consolingly.

“As usual, I see being the voice of reason falls to me,” Logan sighed, adjusting his tie.

“You’re doing great, babe!”  Patton cheered.

As Logan was busy rebooting from unexpected_patton_love.fm, Kaimi picked up on the lecture.  “After we’re forced to endure Missy blabbering about her… latest makeup pallet or whatever this event is for” - Kaimi waved a dismissive hand - “Roman and Virgil will cause some sort of distraction.”

Roman perked up considerably.  “Free reign?”

“Free reign,” Kaimi confirmed warily.

“Maybe hold your _horses_ a bitty _bit_.”  Patton winced despite the double pun.  “A little less destruction would be nice this time.”

“Last time wasn’t that bad!”  Roman cried indignantly.

“You decapitated the statue of liberty,” The Savior deadpanned.  “I’m all for destroying false ideals of toxic nationalism and blind patriotism, but that seems a bit on the nose.”

“Technically, that was Calamity,” The Prince sulked.

“I didn’t do nothin’!”  Calamity interjected, eyes wide.

Logan blinked, tilting his head.  “Therefore… you did do something?”

“After the distraction,” Kaimi emphasized, “people will start making a break for the doors.  Roman, maybe just… do a villainous monologue or something.”

“Hone your inner Richard, Duke of Gloucester,” Logan instructed.

“Now is the winter of our discontent,” the villain cackled.

“What if they don’t start running?”  Patton interjected, twisting their mouth.  “People know you three don’t hurt anyone who isn’t a ‘hero’ or another villain.”

“Y’aint wrong.”  Katrina pondered it for a second.  “Ya could always tell a li’l fib-”

_“No,”_ Patton interjected sharply, then shrunk, almost self-consciously as everyone turned to them, startled.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap; I just…”

“Shoot, I’m so sorry, doll!”  Katrina held up her hands, brow creased.  “I didn’t even mean it like _that._  I was just thinkin’... naw, I really wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m fine.”  Patton flashed an empty smile, arms crossing to hug themself.

Kaimi slid off of Katrina’s lap and towards Patton, her girlfriend tailing close behind.  Roman and Virgil followed a moment later.  All of them gently laid a hand on Patton until they were surrounded in a circle of warmth.

“It’s okay, Pat,” Virgil said softly.  “You know we’d never ask that of you.”

“Which is stupid,” Patton objected weakly, scrubbing a hand across their face.  “This whole thing would be so much easier if I could just lie for you.” They laughed, bitterly.  “Too bad I’m not Able to make myself believe anything, like I can everyone else. I could convince myself to be useful for-”

“Don’t you dare.”  Logan’s voice, heated, stern, emphatic, broke the fragile stillness in the air; Patton, startled, turned to face their husband.  “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Patton.”

Logan wheeled himself over, glaring up at Patton with a single-minded determination.  Silently, the others parted until Logan was before Patton, the same fire that had hurt him all those years ago blazing in his dark eyes.

“You, Patton Morales-Abbott, are so incredibly vital to everything we do.”  Logan clasped both of Patton’s hands in his own, tight as a lifeline. “You’re the strongest one out of all of us, Patton.”

Roman made a small, disagreeing noise, only for Kaimi to promptly elbow him in the ribs.

“You have such an incredible Ability, and you are so incredibly strong for not using it.”  Logan pressed a gentle kiss to the back of one of their hands. “You are aware that it is wrong to deceive people, to force them to believe whatever you say, so you don’t.”

“But I could,” Patton said softly.  “Aren’t I just… selfish? I won’t do something as important as help with this, just because I won’t use my Ability, just because I won’t lie.”

Logan sighed up at them, adjusting his tie.  “Patton, love, you are the one who got us these blueprints.  You are the one who confirmed the guest list by asking for a list of dietary restraints.  You are the reason we’re all here, Patton. So, please” - he tightened his grip on their hands - “don’t do us the injustice of claiming to be anything less than you are: spectacular.”

“You’re the only thing keeping us sane half the time, Pat,” Virgil added, reaching out to squeeze their shoulder.

“Who needs lies anyway?”  Kaimi snorted. “They just get in the way of The Truth.”

“Without ya, we’d be jumpier than cats on a hot tin roof.”

“You’re the softest little puffball we got, Pat.”  Roman smiled, and it was only slightly sad. “I don’t think we could affort to lose that… humanity at this point.”

Emotions washed over Patton’s face, falling like so many diamonds in crystaline tears.  “I…” They couldn’t finish. Freckled hands wiped at their face, and a small, wavering smile crossed their lips.  “Thank you.”

“We love you, Patton,” Virgil said.  “So much.”

“I love you kiddos, too.”  Patton sighed as a weight fell from their chest, and they sat heavily in their chair.  “Now, Roman’s going to _stage_ a monologue?”

“I’m ignoring that because I value our marriage,” Logan informed them.  “However, you are correct. Once Roman distracts the crowd, Virgil will slip away and incapacitate Missy.”

“I was late because I was working on these little babies.”  Virgil pulled the spherical gadgets from his pocket, threw them in the air, and caught them.  A soft murmur of awe spread through his friends as the devices flattened and rippled out.  Suddenly, gloves enveloped his hands.

“What do they do?”  Kaimi, eyes sparking, reached out.

“No!”  Virgil yelped, practically flinging himself away.  He landed with his hands splayed in the air like a flamenco dancer, peering cautiously at her.  “Don’t touch them.”

“No touching, got it.”  She backed up, eyes wide.

“Sorry, but they’ll knock you out for half an hour if you do,” Virgil explained, snapping his fingers.  The gloves retreated back into two small orbs, nestled in the palms of his hands.  “They’re coated in toxic dinoflagellates,” the engineer continued. “Katrina helped me portion them out.”

“We took a few real fun naps along the way,” the biologist said wryly.

“Best I’ve slept since reading chapter eighty seven of Logan’s Sherlock smut fic,” Virgil agreed.

“That is in no way relevant,” Logan sulked.

“Sorry, Lo, but forty thousand word chapters are a tiny bit excessive,” Kaimi chimed in.  “Especially when ten thousand of that is just you waxing poetic about Sherlock’s eyes.”

“Falsehood!”  Logan flushed.  “They are of great scientific interest, as there is no way short of photospectrum analysis to properly determine their pigment.”

“He thinks his eyes are pretty,” Patton mock-whispered.  “It’s really cute, actually.”

“SO MISSY IS GOING TO BE KNOCKED OUT,” Logan interruped loudly.

A twinge of empathy crossed Kaimi’s face.  “I know what the goal of this whole things is, but… it’s strange to be talking about it like _this.”_

“El que la hace, la paga,” Roman muttered darkly.

“Verdad,” Katrina confirmed.  “It’s the only way, peach.”

Kaimi just shrugged, gaze dropping to the floor.  Patton took her hand and squeezed it.

“I’ll be sequestered in the kitchens with Patton.  We’ll then emerge when Virgil gives the signal.” Logan’s light projected the outside of the Starlight Plaza.  “Kaimi, you’ll be waiting outside with Katrina.”

“I still don’t get why Roman and I have to be on dance duty.”  Virgil groused, crossing his arms. “I’m not exactly one for the limelight.”

“I’ll be in the kitchens,” Patton apologized.

“My footwork is absolutely dreadful,” Logan deadpanned, gesturing to his wheelchair.

“I’m too recognizable,” Kaimi deflected, waving a hand at her scar.

“I only square dance,” Calamity claimed, completely straight-faced.

“I swear you make up half this stuff,” Roman accused her, trying and failing to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Her sharp eyes crinkled.  “Y’ain’t never gonna be able to prove it, doll.”

Roman snorted as he turned to Virgil, eyes suddenly soft and mischievous.  “What, you don’t want to dance with me, storm cloud?”

“I didn’t say that,” Virgil muttered, picking at the skin by the edge of his thumb.  “I… I’d just hate to step on your toes.”

“Metaphorically, you ‘step on’ all of our ‘toes’,” Logan said dryly.

“Love you, too, L.”  Virgil snorted.

“Don’t worry, Dark Ruffalo.”  Roman took his abused hand and spun him, so abruptly that Virgil couldn’t help a startled cry.  “I’ll just have to sweep you off of your feet before you can do any damage.”

Virgil’s arms were wrapped around Roman’s neck, and he huffed out a bemused laugh.  “Is this were I’m supposed to say you already have?”

“That would be marvelous, thank you.”  Roman grinned.

Virgil pressed a short kiss to his lips, then stepped back, smirking at Roman’s blush.  “I think it’s the other way around, Princey.”

Roman’s jaw worked a few times before it relaxed into a small, soft smile.  “Yeah,” he agreed, eyes shining as he stared into those lightning-gray eyes he loved.  “It kinda is.”

Infuriatingly, heat rose up the back of Virgil’s neck.  “Unfair,” he groused. “I was supposed to be flustering you.”

“That’s what you get for messing with The Prince.”  Roman winked.

“Who will save The Savior?”  Kaimi cried dramatically.

“U. N. Owen,” the man himself deadpanned, “by dragging this wayward villain caravan back on track by choice or by force.”

“We’re all ears,” Patton assured him.  “But also some other body parts.”

“Roman and Katrina will grab her and take her out onto the lawn, just as dawn breaks,” Logan painted the picture for them, fevor mounting with every word.  “Virgil and Kaimi will keep any security at bay with Virgil’s freeze-remotes while Patton and I subdue the crowd.”

“The sun is going to rise, and Roman will put on his biotic gloves to make him superhumanly strong while Kat restrains Missy,” Kaimi continued, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Roman, you’re going to need to achieve a force that will gradually equate to about thirty kilometers per second,” the astrophysicist cautioned.  “It’s going to be incredibly difficult.”

“The gloves will do a lot of the heavy lifting, but you’ve got to aim carefully,” Virgil added.

Katrina smirked.  “I’ll help with that. I hardly ever miss.”

“Then it’ll be time.”  Patton smiled. “Everything will be in place.”

“And then?”  Roman could hardly whisper, suddenly too filled with excitement, adrenaline singing in his veins in a way usually reserved for when he went on stage.  He knew the answer, but he couldn’t help but ask, craving the sound of those words, that answer he had waited so, so long for. “And then what happens?”

There were people in this world - people like Roman, like Kaimi, like Katrina - who would always be seen as lesser for something they couldn’t help, something that was simply a part of who they were.  It wasn’t Virgil’s problem, not really.  But if he turned a blind eye, if he was complicit in their suffering, if he never stepped up as an ally to be with them however they needed him, he was no better than those who hurt them.

Virgil wasn’t Powerless, but he would make damn sure _no one_ ever felt powerless.

“With any luck?”  Virgil grinned, taking Roman’s hand and giving it a squeeze.  “We’re going to yeet Missy directly into the sun.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one of Powerless, "Virgil walks Down the Street (but is emo about it)", was posted one year ago today in a fit of rage. The world was unfair, I had been kicked down and spat on so many times, and there was no way that could ever change. It was going to be like that forever. For the longest time, I was stuck as Virgil in chapter one. I was angry and resentful of a world I felt would never be kind to someone like me.
> 
> Oh man, did this year prove me wrong. I've made so many amazing friends, joined a community, and inspired so many people I can hardly comprehend it. Powerless was supposed to be my story, but I'm honored by how many of you have made it your story as well. Thank you all for a wonderful year, and here's to another one ahead.
> 
> If you see a typo, you know what to do ;)


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